


Study Break

by Kisatsel



Series: Study Break (hamburr college au) [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Facials, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5654344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisatsel/pseuds/Kisatsel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron values equilibrium. Alexander has thrown everything into confusion.</p><p>Besides, the intensive study schedule he’s drawn up for this weekend certainly doesn’t leave time for having sex with his greatest student rival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Study Break

**Author's Note:**

> Idek. Here is some really schmoopy porn, I hope you enjoy it! This is unbeta'd and I'm not American so please let me know if there are any glaring errors.

Aaron is aware that it’s uncool to spend Friday night staying in and studying this early in the semester, but he also knows how much of an advantage it will give him to get ahead on the syllabus before the workload starts to get intense. So he’s sitting at his desk, trying to make some semblance of sense out of the mess that is his notes from Lee’s lectures so far and savoring the knowledge that he's far more organized than pretty much everyone else on his course.

That all changes at around half past ten when his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen and then groans quietly. Alexander.

_hey wanna come over?_

_No_ , Aaron types out carefully, then adds a period just for good measure and presses send.

It’s not an understatement to say that Alexander Hamilton is the bane of his life. Apparently not satisfied with ripping through Aaron’s carefully constructed arguments in front of all their classmates every week during Washington’s seminars, Alexander has also managed to get hold of his number from somewhere and has started pestering him to meet outside of class for study sessions. Aaron had assumed that this would mainly involve being a testing ground for angry speeches so that Alexander could be extra prepared to verbally demolish any brave souls who dared to challenge him. The truth had been far, far worse. 

His phone buzzes again.

_ok but can I come over to yours?_

_No, I have work to do._ Aaron jabs at the send button with his thumb and then takes a deep breath. Life is so peaceful when he manages to banish Alexander from his mind, but he never seems to stay gone for long. And, unfortunately, Aaron knows that Alexander’s pestering is only one part of it.

Alexander is an obnoxious, loudmouthed asshole who tries so fucking hard at everything that he has to be compensating for _something_ , but. In order to manage his relationships with others, Aaron has managed to develop at least some degree of self-awareness. And recently he’s become increasingly aware that during the hours he spends going over the reading for class, it’s Alexander’s scornful, goading eyes that he sees when the words begin to blur together. The way Alexander blinks and the corner of his mouth turns down when Aaron cuts right through his arguments.

So yeah, he spends a good deal of his spare time cataloguing the different expressions of one particular classmate’s face, but watching and analyzing others is what he does. Or at least, that had been the theory.

_god, me too!!! can we meet to study_

_you’re in your room now right_

Unfortunately, Alexander isn’t one to let something buried stay hidden, no matter how inconvenient the truth might be.

 _Yeah, why?_ Aaron types out and then shakes his head and deletes the unsent message. He sets his phone aside, stares down at his notebook and allows himself, finally, reluctantly, to think about it. The thing that his mind has been circling around and shying away from all day long.

Last night.

\---

Alexander’s room. One side had weird zoological posters plastered across the walls and clothes strewn across the floor but the other side, Alexander’s side, was oddly bare other than a bed, a messy desk and a few haphazard stacks of books. Aaron had been curious to see what Alexander was like in his own space, whether the rivers of words and the eyes and the mouth and the rigid frame would finally resolve into a person that made sense. Aaron had been ushered in and then directed towards the single swivel-chair, while Alexander stood in front of him, speaking to the room at large and marching around in circles when he got really into a point. He’d brushed off questions about his roommate with a curt “John’s out. He doesn’t like you.”

After an hour or so the debate had wandered away from law and onto various hot-button issues. It was as if Alexander was testing him, probing, honing in on anything that might constitute a conversational minefield just to see if he could get something to explode. It was when their conversation turned to affirmative action that Aaron’s carefully maintained calm had finally slipped.

“I got here on my own merit!” he said, gripping tightly at the edges of the stupid desk chair. “My parents passed away when I was a kid, and I moved schools four times, and applied early for college, and they rejected me, so I worked even harder, and now I’m here. I’m glad they didn’t let me in just to fill a quota.”

“I’m surprised you would let your personal circumstances blind you to the wider picture, Aaron,” Alexander said, sounded delighted, and Aaron felt a rush of anger – the _hypocrite_ – but then he noticed that Alexander wasn’t pacing or pointing or even grinning his smug grin. He was just _looking_ at Aaron and smiling like Aaron had given him some kind of gift. It was disconcerting.

“What is it?” Aaron said in response to the look.

“I didn’t know that about you,” Alexander said, softer. “I’m an orphan too. I came to this country alone. I had to fight to get here.” He spoke matter of factly, taking a step closer so that Aaron had to tip his head up to maintain eye contact.

 _Oh god_ , Aaron thought, _he thinks we’re the same. We’re not the same. I’m nothing like him._ He stood up and placed a steadying hand on the desk. “Okay, and?” he said.

Standing up might have been a mistake because now Alexander could step right up to him and poke him in the shoulder. “You think you’re better because you refuse any support. If you admit that systematic discrimination exists then your special snowflake status will vanish and you’ll have to join the rest of us down here in the slush puddle.”

The tone of derision was no worse than usual, but it seemed more savage because Alexander’s voice had been so unexpectedly gentle just seconds ago. Aaron looked at him steadily and didn’t flinch. God, Alexander was so full of shit. 

“How can you criticize me for wanting to do better when you’re obviously desperate to crawl out of the puddle?” Aaron applied air quotes to the last word to make it clear what he thought of this metaphor.

“You’re wrong about that too,” Alexander said, “but I’ll tell you why later.”

“Why later?” Aaron said, feeling like a fool for repeating Alexander’s words, but he already knew anyway; it was hard to miss the way Alexander’s eyes had gone heavy-lidded, fixed on Aaron’s mouth. Alexander had to go up on his toes to kiss Aaron and Aaron let him, didn’t bend down but didn’t pull away.

 _This is it_ , Aaron thought, _this is the missing piece_ , but it _wasn’t:_ skin to skin, gasping, Alexander remained a mystery to him. The more harshly Aaron kissed him, the more Alexander seemed to melt against him, giving ground like it cost him nothing to do so.

Eventually, Aaron pulled away. He caught a brief glimpse of Alexander’s face before he looked at the ground and it stayed burning behind his eyelids: the flush on his cheeks, the way his tongue darted over his lips. Aaron closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead with his thumb. 

“Stay with me. Stay over,” Alexander said hurriedly.

“I can’t.” Aaron grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He would have to see Alexander in class next week. John Laurens could return at any time and see him and Alexander _kissing_. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

“I’ll see you soon, Alexander,” Aaron said. Alexander jerked a nod at him but didn’t meet his eyes. Aaron took this as his cue to leave.

Back in the privacy of his own room, he had jerked himself off hurriedly and then sat reading late into the night until his eyes started to ache and he was exhausted enough to sleep, hoping fervently that he would find some reasonable explanation for his behavior tomorrow.

\---

So. He doesn’t shout it from the rooftops, but Aaron’s fine with the fact that he likes guys. Liking Alexander Hamilton is an entirely different matter, and wanting to pin Alexander against the bed, wanting to press his fingers against Alexander’s wrists so hard that he leaves bruises and suck his dick until he begs to come is entirely new and more than a little concerning.

Aaron values equilibrium. Alexander has thrown everything into confusion.

Besides, the intensive study schedule he’s drawn up for this weekend certainly doesn’t leave time for having sex with his greatest student rival.

Alexander’s lips had been soft, though, as soft as his voice when he said _“I’m an orphan, too.”_ This fact bears absolutely no relevance to civil procedure but it floats to the front of Aaron’s mind periodically; apparently Alexander doesn’t even need to be present to mess up his concentration. 

Aaron takes a deep swig of water and picks up his textbook again. He is sitting still and very deliberately not looking at his phone when he’s interrupted by a sharp knock on his door. 

The knock comes again, seven times in a row. He only knows one asshole who would think it necessary to knock seven times.

Aaron pulls the door open. It’s Alexander, just as expected, and yet the sight still makes his breath catch in his throat.

Alexander’s in an oversize, rumpled sweater, his hair scraped up into a ponytail with loose strands trailing over his skinny neck. He’s shifting from foot to foot, almost vibrating with energy. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at Aaron with those dark eyes. There’s a swooping, sort of queasy sensation in Aaron’s stomach.

As if there had ever been a chance he’d turn Alexander away from his door. 

“Come in,” Aaron says. “Did you come to finish telling me why I’m wrong?”

“No,” Alexander says, stepping past him. “I can if you want, but. I wanted to see you.”

Aaron closes the door, reaches out his hand and tugs at Alexander’s hair tie. Alexander tilts his head back and closes his eyes. Cupping his other hand around the back of Alexander’s head, Aaron carefully lets down his hair and runs his fingers through it as it spills over his hand. He takes a small step to bring them closer together, and winds the hair around his fingers so that he can pull gently. Alexander shivers against him.

“So,” Alexander says. “Studying’s not on the agenda then?” He sounds insufferably pleased with himself.

Aaron reluctantly lets Alexander’s hair slip from his fingers and raises an eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?” he says, pushing at his shoulders to back him up against the door. Alexander moves easily at his urging.

“Uh,” Alexander says once Aaron has him comfortably caged against the door. “I don’t know, it seems like a mutual decision? You’re so weird, Aaron.”

“You turned up uninvited on my doorstep. Roommate busy?” Aaron says in retaliation.

“He’s elsewhere,” Alexander bites out, staring sullenly at Aaron, his mouth a flat line.

“Hm,” Aaron says. A pleasing thought occurs to him. “Are you planning on explaining to John how you got all the marks I’m gonna leave on you?” He leans in and nips at Alexander’s neck to underline his point.

“I’ll tell him – ah! I’ll tell him I met some guy at a bar.” Alexander’s fists his hands in the cloth of Aaron’s shirt and pulls him closer, wriggling so that Aaron’s thigh is pressed against him.

“Some guy,” Aaron repeats.

“Yeah.” Alexander grins mockingly back at him. “Tall, dark, handsome. Told me I was a mouthy little shit but he knew just what to do about that.”

Alexander’s actually been kind of quiet since he came in compared to the stream of chatter he normally uses to wind Aaron up, but that’s not the point; he's rocking lightly against Aaron’s thigh now, shifting hungrily beneath his hands, and Aaron is pretty sure he does know what to do about it.

“Okay then,” he says, taking a step backwards, his heart thudding. “On your knees, Alexander.”

Alexander breathes out harshly. He pulls his sweater over his head and then emerges a couple seconds later, looking even more flushed and adorably mussed than before. He sinks to his knees and wraps his hands around the back of Aaron’s thighs.

“You don’t know my name,” Alexander mutters once he’s settled on the floor. “We met in a bar.”

“I thought we agreed you’re not here to talk,” Aaron says. Alexander nods. He undoes Aaron’s fly and takes out his cock, staring at it with a small smile of anticipation. Aaron’s mind is oddly blank of the usual judgements and recriminations; he’s hard just from kissing Alexander and from the way he’d just folded himself down on the floor like it was no big deal. Like it was what Alexander had wanted all along.

Aaron traces over Alexander’s lips and presses his thumb into his mouth. Alexander’s tongue flicks over it.

He takes a hold of Alexander’s hair again and guides him downwards until Alexander slides his mouth over him and starts to suck. Alexander’s eyes are closed in bliss and he sinks down lower and begins to bob his head. Aaron feels wet heat engulfing him, unbearably good, and then Alexander pulls off and begins to press meandering kisses over Aaron’s dick, his thighs, his belly. Aaron stifles a groan.

He winds his hand deeper into Alexander’s hair and then tugs sharply. Alexander’s eyes snap open. “Just stay still for a minute,” Aaron says, and pushes back in. Alexander stays, caught in place by Aaron’s grip on him, and when Aaron dares to thrust deeper Alexander moans around him.

It’s only the third blow job of Aaron’s life and this is so much better than his last time’s clumsy, drunken exchange of hands and mouths in a school friend’s bathroom that it seems insulting to even compare them. He tries to keep his movements slow and measured, drawing it out, but Alexander keeps emitting small sounds and grasping at Aaron’s thighs, trying to pull him in deeper, and after an embarrassingly short space of time suddenly Aaron feels himself on the verge of coming. 

He pulls Alexander off. “God, you’re good at that,” Aaron says. Alexander closes his eyes in response to the praise, his mouth still open, slack, as if he has nothing to do other than wait until Aaron decides to fuck his throat some more. Which, after all, is pretty much true.

Aaron is never more aware of his own shortcomings and inadequacies than when he’s arguing with Alexander; maybe that’s why now, standing over him, Aaron feels almost invincible, quietly giddy with it. He runs his fingers over Alexander’s throat. “I think you can work harder though.”

“Yes,” Alexander says hoarsely. He fits his mouth over Aaron’s cock again and then slides down, down, almost to the base – _how the hell did he learn to do this?_ Aaron thinks, trying desperately to remain still. Alexander’s hair is soft against his fingers.

Alexander pulls off with an obscene sound and Aaron shudders at the sudden loss of warmth and pressure. “Come on me,” Alexander says in that wrecked, rusty voice. “I want it like this.”

Alexander is looking up at him with pleading, glassy eyes, and the idea that he wants Aaron to come on his face _in real life, right now_ is so blindingly hot that Aaron has to get a hand on his cock immediately; he grips himself tightly, and comes with Alexander’s words echoing in his ears. 

He opens his eyes to see Alexander looking sticky and absolutely debauched. Some of it went on his neck and, oh god, on the loose strands of hair which are sticking to his face. Alexander doesn’t seem to mind. 

Aaron reaches down and pulls Alexander up; he intends to propel him towards the bed but ends up up half hauling, half cradling him because Alexander just rests his forehead on Aaron’s shoulder, humming quietly, seeming content for Aaron to do all the work of getting them there. 

Aaron deposits Alexander on the bed, straddles his waist and leans in to kiss him, licking the taste of himself out of Alexander's mouth. After a brief consideration of the distance to the sink and back and the obvious bulge of Alexander’s cock tenting his jeans, Aaron pulls a face, takes his shirt off and uses it to wipe at Alexander’s face. It’s an imperfect solution, and also a gross one, so he decides he might as well go for broke with the grossness, throws the shirt towards the floor and commences licking Alexander’s neck. Alexander tilts his head back. 

“Hey,” Aaron says, gesturing to Alexander’s pants. “Get these off.” Alexander fumbles with his hands at his waist and manages to get them down to his thighs then slumps back against the pillows.

Aaron jerks Alexander off lazily, drinking in the noises he makes, quiet little gasping moans. After a minute or so Alexander starts to buck up faster into his hand, and Aaron leans in closer and kisses him through it as Alexander spills over his hand. 

“Okay,” Aaron says after a minute. “Now we really need a cloth.” He goes to wash his hands and comes back with the washcloth so he can wipe Alexander’s face and neck. Alexander sits there quietly and lets him do it. 

This is a little strange. Alexander is _never quiet_ : even when he’s not talking he is always making noise, rustling papers or typing at breakneck speed or drumming his fingers against the table. Now he is lying on his back with his head tilted to the side and his mouth crooked in a smile, gazing at Aaron. 

Seated cross-legged on the bed beside him, Aaron reaches out a hand tentatively to brush over Alexander’s shoulder. 

“That was nice,” Alexander says.

“Yeah,” Aaron says. 

“I mean, it was good,” Alexander says. “If I actually met a guy like that in a bar I’d think for a minute that the universe really loved me.” 

Aaron has a hell of a lot of things to say in response to that pronouncement and he absolutely is not going to let Alexander hear any of them. 

“It’s late,” he says, rising reluctantly to flick off the light switch. “You staying?” 

“Mmm,” Alexander says. He takes off his shirt and gets under the covers, and Aaron follows suit. Alexander tucks his head on Aaron’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him. It’s way too warm in the room to be tangled together like this but there's clearly no hope of prising Alexander off now that he's made himself comfortable.

“Hey, Aaron?” Alexander’s breath tickles his ear. 

“Yeah?” 

“I need you to set an alarm for 5.45am. I've got a lot to do tomorrow.”

“No. Go to sleep.” Alexander makes a low grumbling noise but doesn’t move. Aaron spreads his hand over Alexander’s back and feels something settle inside him. He wonders which Alexander he will wake up next to in the morning, the confrontational firebrand or the sleepy, pliant bundle of warmth or some new and equally bewildering thing. Aaron presses a kiss into Alexander's hair, light enough that he won't notice, and breathes in and out, slow and steady.


End file.
